All righty then.. Tuesday comes so quickly any more! And we're already up to chapter eight... Anyway... I just want to thank you all for reading and reviewing. (And to those who didn't, keep reading anyway!) Erm... Someone mentioned that not much happened in the last chapter... I know and I really hate that we're in this lull right now, but next week, things should start heating up a bit... Actually, it might start here... It depends on how you look at it. Again, I wanna thank my beta, Jennza... *tumultuous applause* So, you know, I own nothing. Read, enjoy, and review! :) (Oh, before I forget... You guys get a cookie from the next chapter! Isn't that nice? Heehee... Enjoy! It's right at the bottom.)
Chapter Eight:
Behind Blue Eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
"But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
"I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
"No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
"No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
'Behind Blue Eyes'
-The Who
The owl came about an hour ago. When I read it, I headed straight for The Book Junkie. Did our talk last night mean anything to her or did she completely disregard everything I told her?
I find her sitting behind the counter, deeply immersed in a new novel, a quill in between her teeth, and her bare foot swinging rhythmically. "'Mione..." I say softly, breaking her from her deep concentration.
"Hmm?" She looks up lazily, smiles when she sees me, and stretches. "Hey, you," she hops down from her perch and stands in front of me. She looks up at me expectantly. She wants me to kiss her... Yeah, not good.
After we were married, she depended on me for every little thing. I had to tell her to get out of bed, to take a shower, to eat, to brush her teeth... To get dressed... You name it. It was like taking care of a baby. She couldn't do anything for herself. Then, slowly, she began to pull herself back together. Soon, she was the one waking me up and reminding me to brush my teeth. But she wouldn't let me love her until about two years after he was gone. When she finally did, she expected kisses or hugs whenever we were in the same room. I think it's because she needed to feel loved so she could stop blaming herself for Harry's death. About three years ago, she finally returned to the same Hermione that I had known back in school. Sure, there were more battle wounds (physical and emotional) but for the most part, she was every bit the annoying book worm that I'd known since I was 11.
I sigh. "Look, 'Mione... We need to talk about this."
She looks at me confusedly. "Talk about what? We talked about Harry last night."
"Apparently it didn't sink in. We need to talk." I stare right into her eyes and speak softly.
Hermione glances at her watch. "Well, I don't close until eight tonight and then I thought that we'd get James and go out-"
"You'll close early," I shrug. I can tell by the look on her face that I'm heading quickly into couch territory. "James can stay with Mum and Dad again. You know they love having him." I cross over to the door, flip the sign to 'closed' and with a flick of my wand I lock the store. "We are going home... Now." Why is she making everything so complicated?
She scoffs. "What is so bloody important that you-"
"We need to talk, Hermione. You can make this difficult, but it has to happen."
She grabs her purse and grits her teeth. "Fine," she spits. "Meet me there."
* * *
I arrive right after she does and I watch as she throws her bag down and slumps into the couch. "Let's talk." She crosses her arms and her eyes flash dangerously.
I sigh. Not exactly the way I wanted to go about things. "Where's the money?"
"What money?" she replies sweetly.
"The money from Harry's Gringott's account."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
I close my eyes and count backwards from ten. "Hermione, Neville sent me an owl and told me that you went to Gringott's this afternoon, cleaned out Harry's bank account, and had it all sent here."
I see a flicker of anger in her eyes. "I told you; I don't know what you're talking about."
"Really?" Okay, she's a good actor, I'll give her that much. "I almost believe you. And if I didn't know you better, I would. You have to give it back."
"I won't!" she jumps up. "I will not! That money is mine! It has been all these years!" Her voice is quiet, but her eyes are on fire.
"And you've lived without it all these years! Why, 'Mione? We don't need it."
"I didn't want him to have it!" she screams.
I scoff. "Hermione, you're acting like a child!"
"So be it," she hisses.
She's not telling me the whole truth. "Why?" I ask her again.
Hermione's lip quivers and she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "I want him to know how much he's hurt me. I want him to feel like I've felt the last eight years."
I can see where she's coming from. "What's that, Hermione?"
She wipes away a tear. "You know... You of all people know what we went through to get to this point."
I nod. "I do. But Harry doesn't. You need to tell him that."
"No." She vehemently shakes her head. "I can't... I won't... The only thing I want to tell Harry Potter... Well, I want to tell him to leave and never come back into my life. I can't take this leave for eight years back for eight days. I can't."
I have to fight the smile that is threatening to creep across my lips. She wants him to go away for good. Well, good for her. That means she's finally accepted the fact that we're going to be together forever. "Erm..." I stop, carefully choosing my words. "Well, that's great, 'Mione."
We stand in awkward silence for a minute before she clears her throat. "Wh... What... Well, how should I tell him?"
I shake my head. "You're smarter than I ever thought about being, dear heart. I think you'll know what to say."
"But I don't-"
I put a finger to her lips. "Hermione... You do." I tap her temple. "It's all up here. Merlin knows you've got enough brains."
She smiles and leans into me. "Oh, Ron... We went through so much with him." She picks at a string on my maroon sweater.
I chuckle. "We've been through more with each other." I feel the familiar burn of jealously rise in my chest. What if she goes back to him? What if she decides that she still loves him? Like she decided in sixth year. "You won't go back to him, will you, Hermione?"
She pulls away from me suddenly, vehemently shaking her head. "Of course not! I quit loving Harry Potter years ago!"
"So you could never love him again?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Ron, please don't-"
"Answer the question, Hermione," I snap and immediately feel bad for being so rude, but I don't apologize. I want an honest answer.
"We are not having this conversation!" She turns on her heel and heads up the staircase.
I follow her and when she sees me, she brushes past me and heads back down. "Hermione, just say it!"
She scoffs. "No!"
"Because you still love him."
"I never said that!" She puts her hands on her hips and thrusts her face towards mine.
"But you won't answer the question, so apparently you do!"
"What?"
"Erm, excuse me!" We turn to the doorway and see Ginny standing there. "Erm..." Her voice is shaky. "Look, I hate to interrupt anything... But..."
Hermione crosses over to my sister. "Is anything wrong, Ginny?"
Come to mention it, she does look a bit peaky.
"Is it James?" Hermione asks anxiously.
Ginny shakes her head. "Err... No. It's Dad. He's been hurt."
* * *
Something is wrong with Hermione. Lying in the dark, I've realized just how much.
It has become all too obvious in the past month and a half. She eats little, when she eats at all, her color is off, and she's spacey. Now, don't get me wrong, Hermione has always been a bit spacey. But this isn't nose-buried-in-a-book spacey... This is sit-in-a-chair-and-stare-at-the-wall-for-three-hours spacey. Something about Harry's departure has almost killed her. Now, I'm not an idiot. I know that just Harry's departure almost killed her... But there's something else going on. She's anemic, but nothing I can say to her can get her to eat more. Being back at Hogwarts... Well, I'm not sure that has helped any. She'll wander around the common room, wrapped in one of Harry's old Quidditch shirts and jeans, fingering the portraits and mumbling to herself.
I've been acting strangely too. Professor Dumbledore noticed that I wasn't cracking jokes at every meal like I used to. I just shrugged. What am I supposed to do? Laugh off my best friend's disappearance? Fat chance. But I've come so close to just grabbing Hermione and telling her everything I've felt... Am still feeling. That scene by the lake three weeks ago. That can never happen again. I came so close to telling her what I still feel for her.
There's a part of me... A small part, but still a part, never wants Harry to return. I could make her love me then. I could convince her that she needs me. Or I could try anyway.
"Ron?" There's a whisper and I see Hermione standing beside my bed in (well, what do you know) one of Harry's Quidditch shirts. The moonlight illuminates her hair and she looks so innocent... So angelic standing there in front of me. "Ron, is it okay if I slide in here with you? There's plenty of room. I used to come in here with Harry."
I nod as she pulls back the blankets and settles in. I roll onto my side and face her. "Really? I never thought that you and Harry-"
"Once," she says shortly, pulling the quilt up to her chin. "The night he left."
"The Astronomy Tower?" Why in bloody hell am I asking these questions? I don't want to know the answers... I don't want to know about their relationship... But I do.
She nods and I see the tears start to slip down her cheeks. "I wanted to make it special..."
And what in Merlin's name am I supposed to say to that? "Oh." Great. Come on, change the subject... Change the subject.
"So, what about you and Luna?" she asks after controlling her tears.
"'Mione, why are we talking about this?" I say, a bit sharper than I intended to.
She shrugs and starts to cry again. I pull her tiny frame to my larger one and just let her cry.
"What if he doesn't come back, Ron? What then? How do I live without him?" she asks in between sobs.
Haven't we already had this conversation? "Well... You'll always have me. I told you, Hermione, I will never let anything happen to you. Voldemort will have to kill all of Hogwarts and me before he gets to you."
She sniffles. "Yeah... You know, I can't understand why they're all so protective of me. I mean, I was- am only his girlfriend."
I shrug. "That's kind of been bothering me, too, 'Mione. Maybe tomorrow we should talk to Professor Dumbledore."
She nods and wipes away the tears. "You know... It's sad that all I have left of Harry is this..." She indicates the shirt that's at least three sizes too big for her.
"He's not dead yet, 'Mione. Stop trying to put him in the grave. We don't know anything yet." I stroke her hair gently.
"Exactly. We don't know anything yet. That's why I'm so unhappy, that's why I throw up everything I eat."
Merlin... I didn't know about that. "You do? Do you make yourself do it, Hermione?"
She shakes her head. "Of course not... Madame Pomfrey says I have an ulcer. But I bet I'm dying. It always looks like she's not telling me something."
"Do you kind of get that feeling from everyone here?" I run a hand through my hair. "I mean, they were so adamant about us coming back to Hogwarts, yet they seem quite reluctant to tell us anything. Where Harry is... What Harry's doing... Why they're all so protective of you."
"That thought... has... occurred to me... numerous... times..." She yawns.
"You know, Hermione... I think that..." But I stop as I realized she has fallen asleep on my chest. I glance at the clock. 11:27... Thirty-three more minutes until I can allow myself to slip into sleep. But somehow I trust that there won't be a nightmare tonight.
TEASER
I speak softly. "I'll watch James for you."
I glance over at Ron and see him looking at me with an intensity that I'm not used to from him. I stare back impassively, waiting for him to pass a verdict. Somehow, it feels like there's a lot riding on this stare-down. Finally, he nods once, decisively, and I see a flicker of something-pain? fear? and something that looks strangely like satisfaction-in his eyes. He turns to Hermione and takes her hand, raises it to his lips. "Leave James with Harry, Hermione. They'll be okay. After all," he grins, "how much damage can James cause in a couple of hours?"
She jerks away and glares at him. Ahh... Trouble in paradise? "It's not James I'm worried about, Ronald." She shifts her eyes to me. "All right. But just this once. And just because there's no alternative."
(Are you excited yet? Are you? Are you? Heehee... You'll find out soon enough... :D)