Chapter Ten: How Dare He?
A few weeks had past since I had vanquished Voldemort with my admittance of loving Hermione. Of course I spent a few days in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey fretting over every little detail of my welfare. Now as I look back on it, I smile.
Things in my life were rapidly beginning to change. At this point I wasn't sure whether the changes were good or bad, though I would soon find out.
My relationship with Hermione was going alright to say the least. She seemed to want to give me time to get back to my old self before we took any major steps in our relationship, I was grateful at the time.
I had reporters coming up to me every chance they got to get an eyewitness exclusive on the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I was all too eager to tell everyone what I had done. As the days went by and I was finally aloud out of the infirmary and able to join my classmates once again, I was still hounded by the press. I began making appointments to travel to the Ministry of Magic for public interviews. I was very proud of my accomplishments, I was finally going to have the life I had always wanted, a happy Voldemort free life, where I could do whatever it was I wanted to do.
Due to this sudden change in attitude, mine and Hermiones' relationship dwindled a little bit. She never seemed to upset about it so I just let it go, thinking it just wasn't meant to be. It didn't bother me that much as long as we were still friends.
As the school year went on I began to grow steadily more popular with the girls at Hogwarts, and some from the other wizarding schools such as Durmstrang and Beaubuxtons. I received letters from them all, along with compromising pictures that I saved and put into a box locking safely away in my trunk.
(Hermione)
Harry had been acting weird ever since he was released from the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey kept insisting he was quite fine whenever Ron or I took our concerns to her, but she didn't know, she didn't see him everyday. We did. He would come waltzing into the common room like he owned the whole place, not saying a word to Ron or myself, but winking at random girls in the room.
He never acknowledged our relationship, which upset me to say the least. I first attributed it to him being overwhelmed by the press, but eventually the interviews and the letters began to die down. I didn't know what to do anymore, he hadn't spoken to me in at least three weeks. I felt like something in my was slowly dying without him there. With Harry MIA I went to my other best friend to discuss exactly what was going on in our lives.
I found Ron in the common room reading a Quidditch magazine. I mean what else would he be doing? I sat down in front of him with a huff, he barely looked up. Everyone was acting so bizarre!
"Ron." I said his name quietly so I could get his attention. He mumbled a soft hello and continued reading. Getting quite perturbed I stood up and grabbed the magazine out of his hands. He looked up bewildered at what I had done.
"I need to talk to you about Harry, now!"
He looked clueless.
"Listen Hermione, your guess is as good as mine. I don't know what has gotten into the sorry git."
I went and sat next to him on the couch. I really needed to be comforted right now, and my best friend seemed like the best person for the job. I lay my head on his shoulder, and I could feel his intake of breath. Just the feeling of putting my head there and him letting me keep it there was comforting, I relaxed slightly, something I hadn't done since Harry got out of the hospital.
"I'm just getting worried, Ron." I said exasperated.
I felt him nod his head then he inhaled deeply.
"He hasn't said anything to me, he keeps to himself a lot now, but it's a weird feeling he emits."
I raised my head and looked at him oddly. "What do you mean?"
He took another breath; obviously it was hard for him to talk about his best friend this way.
"It's like he's proud that he's not talking to us anymore. Like he thinks he's better than us now or something."
That thought had crossed my mind, but I didn't think Harry was capable of thoughts such as those. Thoughts like that were usually only from Malfoy and his cronies, not Harry.
"I think we need to talk to him Ron. Sort things out. You know he hasn't even mentioned our relationship, let alone acknowledged that I'm even alive!"
Again Ron nodded his head. I wasn't alone in this, Ron didn't register on Harry's radar anymore either.
As if by magic we heard the portrait swing open and Harry stumble in with his arms around some sixth year Hufflepuff girl. My eyes bulged out of my head, and I could feel tears. Their lips were swollen as if they had been snogging all night and there was a dark hickey on Harrys' neck.
I sat there in awe as I watched him lead her into his room. When the door shut behind them, I continued staring as if willing myself not to believe what I had just seen. That was my boyfriend. My boyfriend who had just escorted another girl to his room, in front of me.
I could feel Rons arms come around me and pull me into a hug, everything else that might've happened, I don't remember. I was in a state of shock. Harry wouldn't do that to me. Someone was using the Imperious curse on him. This wasn't him.
Ron grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. His blue eyes looked deep into mine. I stared at him in shock. What else was I supposed to do? He seemed to be looking for something in my eyes, a trigger almost. Something that would let the tears fall freely from my overflowing eyes. I refused to give Harry that part of me, and I didn't want Ron to see me in my weakest moment.
I politely excused myself and walked into my private dorm. I shut the door behind me and whispered the locking spell. I didn't want to be bothered for quite some time. In a daze I walked over to my bed, and sat down on it.
Everything from contemplating what I did, to I hope he was using protection floated through my mind. I barely registered Ron's voice drifting through the door begging me to let him in, that we needed to talk. When I didn't answer him I heard him clunk up the stairs and then the door to his room slam shut.
Now feeling completely alone, I raised my hands to my face, and let the tears flow freely down my face. Spasms rocked my body as the hurt and betrayal sunk in and I cried even harder. I felt like I was dying, and if I wasn't then this was pretty close. I lay back on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the night he defeated Voldemort. At that thought, I was struck with the thought of what he said to me. Suddenly anger replaced the hurt. How dare he! How dare he tell me that he loved me.
I didn't know what to think anymore. I was so sure that after he had defeated Voldemort, our lives would have been peaceful and content. We would have been able to finally be happy and move on, grow up. But I could see that that was not going to happen for quite some time.
As the clock in my room struck two a.m. I finally dozed off to sleep in the same clothe I had been wearing that day and puffy swollen eyes.
I dreamt of happy times. Happy times with Harry. Our first meeting on the Hogwarts Express. The end of the year feast in first year. When we found Sirius was innocent. Harry winning the Tri Wizard Tournament. Him asking me to be his girlfriend.
And as suddenly as they had come, they had vanished, replaced by thoughts and slide shows of Harry stumbling in with that girl attached to him. The hickey on his neck. The disheveled clothes. I awoke with a start to realize I had only been sleeping for a few hours. Realizing I had no chance of going back to sleep I exited my room, and walked towards the inviting fire and cozy chairs that were so familiar to me.
What I saw when I got there shocked me to the core.
There was Harry sitting in his usual chair, reading a book. I tried desperately to be quiet and turn around but he must have heard me. He looked up and caught my eye.
"Hello Hermione."