Out of Reach

Out of Reach

By Adagio

It was a strange feeling, really. As if someone had knocked the wind out of him and sucked it into a bag. And there was no way for him to reclaim the bag. That someone had hidden it at the top of a tall tree where even Accio Bag could not reclaim it. It was a lost cause.

“I knew you’d get hurt.” A voice filled with dread and remorse choked out the same sentence over and over again, his head in his hands. “That’s why I tried to get you two to stop. But you never got it…”

“It’s alright mate, we’re fine, we are.” A tall red-haired boy was trying to smile, lying on a bed in the hospital wing with vile potions on a tray on the nightstand next to him, yet it came off as more of an unsatisfied grimace.

Harry didn’t say anything. He was crouched in-between the hospital beds of Ron and Hermione with his head between his knees, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Nearby, the beds of Ginny and Luna were silent, albeit a few breaths indicating that they were in a deep sleep. Hermione opened her mouth a few times without a sound, but finally, with a quick glance at Ron, said,

“Harry…maybe….maybe you should rest a bit. You really didn’t need to come here for the whole-the whole day and-“

“I’m fine.”

The tears that had occupied his voice earlier were gone, replaced by a cutting, shuddering tone that gave Hermione a brief chill down her spine. She took a deep breath.

“Well, alright then. But you should take care of yourself, I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, well, obviously taking care of myself is not really my top priority according to you, is it? That’s what made me be such a stupid git and try and save Sirius, but look where that got us.” He snapped viciously back at her, leaning his head against the edge of the hospital bed and shutting his eyes in anger and undeniable guilt.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows.

“No need to go there Harry. No need. And uh- well…” He stopped, clearly uncomfortable and slid back under the covers, throwing a concerned look at Harry before turning the opposite direction and closing his eyes.

Harry turned his body around and promptly decided to not watch Ron’s back. What else did Ron expect? He saw that Hermione was still lying there, unable to move from the spell the Dolohov had set on her in the Department of Mysteries.

“You don’t need to do that Harry. Putting your anger out at your friends really isn’t the best tactic.” She gave him a look as she turned her head towards him reproachfully.

He bit his lip and decided to not curse loudly in middle of a Sunday afternoon at the only friend he had that wasn’t dead, at least 50 miles away, or asleep. Instead Harry sighed and put his elbows on her hospital bed, burrowing his head in between his arms. There was a horrible, pronounced silence in the hospital wing as Harry could almost see Hermione biting her lip. He ignored it and tried to think of something that didn’t have to do with Voldemort or Sirius. Right now he was failing miserably, even as he was just outlining his plan.

“Um, Harry?” Hermione was speaking with a slight voice, as if she was staring off in a completely different direction than him, and, upon raising his eyes slightly and watching her, Harry realized that yes, indeed, she was.

“What.”

“I was just…I’ve been wondering- and it’s ok if you don’t want to share this with me but- well- I know something other than- other than you know, him, has been bothering you lately.”

Harry said nothing, just stared at the bed sheet in front of him.

“And I think that maybe if you- if you’d like to talk about…what it is then you’d feel- I mean if you want to talk about it then-“

She broke off at the look he gave her and sighed with a heavy breath.

“Harry, I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror lately but you look absolutely awful. I hope you don’t think I’m just going to lie here and let you wallow in this problem without trying to help you. And it’s not just me. It’s everyone here. They all care about you. And I’m sure you care about us. So maybe-”

“Sirius cared about me. And it was pretty clear I cared about him. But look where that got him. Not so good, was it?” Harry spat bitterly, feeling the tears welling up once more in his eyes, sure to cloud his already dirty glasses even more. “So what’ll happen next then, hmm? The reason he tricked me was because he knew I cared about Sirius. And when he finds out about my other friends? I can’t let you all just DIE!” He put his head in his hands and sobbed, running his fingers through the unruly hair that was even more so now that he hadn’t washed it in weeks. The sobs racked through his body silently. There were no cries or wails coming from Harry Potter, only violent shudders and tears that streamed onto the white linen sheets. He looked up at the stricken face of Hermione.

“Harry…”

“I couldn’t bear it if that happened. If everyone else became a so-called victim. How could I live knowing I sent you all to your deaths? You came close enough this time…” He in took a shaky breath and let his head fall down in between his arms once more, unable to hoist himself up. He couldn’t hear any more words coming from Hermione’s mouth, only a few breaths that sounded like she had fallen asleep. His own body was also becoming ragged and tired; the thoughts that clouded his mind were exhausting him beyond belief. He was still crying, yet his mind was drifting into another state where he was no longer conscious.

Now, he was in a dream-world. The world was gloomy and humid and there was barely any sign of light. Harry couldn’t move, but this dark place was strangely comforting. It felt like the place was telling him to go to sleep, enclosing the walls around him.

Hermione lay in the silent hospital wing, staring at the boy at the edge of her bed with his head buried in his arms. Every once in a while, his body would shake and settle down silently. The afternoon sun had disappeared, replaced with a cloud that sent condensed light around the room. She couldn’t move much, Madame Pomfrey had told her she was still too weak, but she could move her arms and head now. It was a drastic improvement since the last week.

She felt like she too, could feel Harry’s pain from the way his voice evoked emotions inside her that made her want to wrap a large blanket around him and hold him until he got better, until he stopped crying, until he stopped hurting.

After a brief moment of uncertainty, she reached her arms a short distance over to where his head was. Hermione allowed herself to let her hand go down and stroke the sweaty, matted head of Harry Potter. She pulled his bangs out of their position against his forehead and noticed that it was coated with sweat. She tried it wipe it away with her hand, but it didn’t do much other than spread it around a bit. Hermione moved her hand to the back of his head and noticed the same thing.

Yet now, he wasn’t shuddering. There was a very pronounced, stern look now on Harry’s face. He was asleep.

“Sirius…?” He was mumbling now, leaning his head into the hole he had created with his arms.

Hermione recoiled; her hand snapping back into position aside her torso. Tears were streaming into her eyes for a reason she couldn’t comprehend anymore. Maybe it was that asleep or awake, Harry would be thinking of the death of the only father figure in his life. Maybe it was that she couldn’t help him talk about it. Maybe it was the fact that tomorrow; he wouldn’t wake up any happier. And maybe it was because that no matter how hard she tried to make things better, neither would she.

a/n: thank you for reading this fic. It’s more of a ‘yes it could’ve happened and not altered the plot much’ fic, but it’s my understanding of what the characters went through after the fiasco at the end of OotP and trying to make their feelings come out more. It’s in essence, an H/Hr fic that foreshadows feelings more than anything else. I’m going to continue it and see where it goes for now.

Out of Reach

By Adagio

Chapter 2 - Seasons of mist and mellow fruitlessness

The last morsel of food vanished in an instant from her plate.

“You’re done already?” Ron looked up from a mouthful of chicken and frowned. “Hope you’re not going to starve yourself for spew again.”

Hermione made a face at her friend and shook her head.

“Surprising as it may be to you Ron, I’m not. And anyway, how many times must I tell you. It’s not spew-“

“Hermione!” Ginny was running from the other end of the Gryffindor table to where Hermione and Ron were sitting alone and sulking. Although to be a bit more accurate, Hermione was sulking, and Ron was hungry enough to stop sulking at the moment. The bushy-haired girl noticed that Ginny was accompanied by Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor from her year whom she did not know very well.

“Hello Ginny. Enjoying the feast?” Hermione said, making a quick assumption about the two of them. “I suppose some people are still able to stomach their food without guilt these days.” There was an uncomfortable silence where she realized that maybe the comment sounded a bit different out loud than the way she imagined it in her head, but now it didn’t seem to be too bad of a thing, judging from the look on everyone’s faces. Ron took a large swig of pumpkin juice and cleared his throat.

“Right. Well. This may not be the best time to mention… you know.” He said nervously, glancing at Hermione every few words, although the sentence was directed at his sister.

“No one had mentioned it, Ron, prior to you.” Hermione glared at him. Sometimes Ron just couldn’t notice the little things; she, for one, did not want Dean Thomas to overhear their conversations about Harry’s well-being.

“I was just-“

“If you’re talking about Harry,” Ginny said, “I saw him talking to Luna just a few moments ago.” She glanced at Ron and Hermione, who both looked shocked. “I’m going to go back. Obviously this isn’t a good time.”

As she strode away, the two remaining teenagers couldn’t speak. Ron was staring at his plate, the expression on his face unreadable, while Hermione took a large gulp of pumpkin juice.

“Why’s Harry talking to Looney Lovegood instead of us?” He said slowly. “I thought he wasn’t coming down because he wasn’t feeling well. You don’t think they’re- I mean- there’s really no- plus if he really was feeling bad about things…” Ron looked up at Hermione hopefully, waiting for her to make some reassuring comment.

“I don’t know, Ron.” She sighed. “We can’t control every aspect of Harry’s life, and I highly doubt that Harry will actually stop being friends with us for Luna Lovegood.”

Ron nodded unsurely and went back to eating. Hermione stood up quickly and grabbed her book.

“In any case, I’m finished here. I’ll meet you back in the common room.” They were two sentences of confirmation.

She was walking much too fast, crashing into students here and there. Her legs were burning from the lack of exercise she had enjoyed in the hospital wing. Yet she couldn’t slow down, for she’d be forced to think about what Ron had just pointed out.

Harry and Luna? Why was Harry talking to her, anyway? Was it true? Could he really not talk to them anymore? But…why? He couldn’t have been trying to avoid what had happened; Luna was there that night as well. Hermione strode down the Great Hall, feeling herself growing more and more angry. She was taking larger strides as she walked up staircases, trying to avoid thinking about what Ginny said. There were more important things to think about, like Harry’s sadness. No matter what Ron said, there was no doubt in her mind that Luna would not be the one to cure him, and certainly not tonight. In fact-

“Ouch!” She had bumped into someone. Hermione looked up to quickly apologize, and groaned inwardly.

Wonderful. It’s her.

“Oh, hello, Hermione.”
“Hello Luna.”

“Just get back from the feast, then?” Luna smiled, as if thinking about this. Suddenly, her expression changed to a slight frown. “I don’t think getting poisoned would be worth eating tonight. Dad says that the beef from Romania is really toxic. Did you know?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She replied impatiently.

“But you know, I’m not so sure… I remember that mum’s uncle-in-law was from Romania and he had a farm with-“

“I’m sure that’s very interesting Luna, but I’m in a hurry right now. Sorry.” Hermione said shortly, looking around like she was very busy.

“Oh.” Luna glanced at her and nodded, making Hermione’s temper rise again (what was she nodding at?). “Well, see you later …”

Hermione didn’t bother to say good-bye. She hurtled past Luna and into the common room. It looked utterly abandoned, save for a few scrolls of parchment on the desks. The fire was still burning brightly, and Hermione smiled a little to herself, remembering those nights of concern when Sirius’ head appeared in the center of the flames. She walked over to the fire and sat down next to a large armchair, wrapping her arms around her knees.

She sighed stared into the fire intently. There was no doubt that dark times were coming up, and that worried her. But nothing worried her more than the effect it would have on Harry. He obviously didn’t take Sirius’ death well, not that he should have, but it affected him so severely Hermione didn’t think he’d be able to cope with it. Not to mention he’d been very dodgy about answering questions. In the end, she had more or less given up on asking.

“You were right, you know.”

Hermione jumped about a foot into the air and her hands slammed into the floor. She veered to the left and saw that Harry was leaning against a couch, partially obstructed from her view. She felt her hands clasp her throat and heart.

“Harry! Goodness, you scared me.” She peered at him from the armchair, wondering if she should move closer.

“S-sorry.” He cleared him throat and sighed.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Hermione got up and walked over to where Harry was, and sat a few feet away from the right of him. They were silent for a long time, staring into the fire. Finally, Hermione snuck a look at him and went for it.

“What were you just saying, Harry?” She said softly.

“Nothing.” He replied quickly.

“What?”

“No, I mean, forget it. I was talking to myself.”

He really was a terrible liar. But there was nothing she wanted to do to prod anything out of him.

“Well, then. That’s… very good.” She tried, grimacing at the word choice.

“Is it?”

“Uhm…”

Harry let out a strange sort of chuckle, but it sounded more like he was choking on a piece of machinery while attempting to laugh.

“I’m not quite sure… what to feel now.” He said, after the strange noise had subsided.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember what you said to me after Cho kissed me, before Christmas holidays?” He said thoughtfully.

“About- about how she was crying?” She felt a bit confused.

“You said,” Harry continued, as if he didn’t hear her, “That she was acting all weird and teary because she was feeling all those mixed-up emotions. Worrying about all these things.”

“Yes, I did. But Harry-“

“Now it’s almost… like…. people are forcing me to be able to feel all those things at once. But- I just can’t! Right now, all I can think about is Sirius! How do they expect me to worry about ten million things that don’t even matter compared to this sort of hurt?!” He was looking straight into her eyes now, and, behind the round frames, his eyes were filled with angry tears.

Hermione winced, and put a (what she hoped was) reassuring hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to- try to do that now. I think it’s better for you to just think about what you want to think about and- not worry about what the others want you to because- because all of us have to take things one step at a time and Harry, I know you’re being forced to skip over all those steps. But you don’t have to- for now.”

He was looking at her with a strange hesitation, as if he didn’t know what he wanted to say, exactly; or didn’t know if he should say it. Then, as briefly as it had come, the look went away. Harry got up slowly and deliberately, making a face as he rubbed his back. Hermione noted that he had probably been sitting there for a while.

“There are certain things I have to do, that you don’t understand.” He said quietly. Hermione felt a surge of anger rise up, but bit it down.

“Maybe if you try to-“

He ignored her again.

“And… along with these things… really is thinking about how he’s gone.” Harry was walking up the stairs to the boys’ dorm now, leaving his bewildered friend sitting on the floor. “But you know… I still want to.”

Hermione got up to start walking towards him, but Harry swiftly disappeared into the boys’ dorms, leaving her mouth half-open with words that were left unsaid.

I won’t cry. She repeated to herself over and over. It’s not worth crying about. Harry has got more important things to cry about. Don’t be selfish.

She took a deep breath and walked slowly in the opposite direction, eyes clear and not red in the slightest way. It was how she needed to act now, for Harry.

a/n: So I wrote another chapter for this story. I’m not really sure where it’s going, since I’m such a canon author I don’t want to tread into Book 6 territory. So I’m not sure whether to just wrap this up in a few more chapters or really try to continue it. If you give me some feedback on this matter I’d really appreciate it. Thank you. And thank you all for the previous reviews.