Author's Note: Oops! I made an error in the last chapter; or more accurately, I left something out. Thanks to kofoo, I realized that I forgot to mention what happened to the pile of wood that was formerly Harry's broom. Let's just pretend that Ron gathered up the remains and took it with them, giving it to Harry later on. Okay? Good.
Oh, and in the spirit of "suspension of disbelief," do not try and make any sense of the timing of events. I'm not even sure what month they're in right now.
Onward!
Chapter Six
The next month was a study in conflicting emotions. I hadn't spoken with Hermione since the day she told me she had stolen my Firebolt, and, in fact, had studiously ignored her. I didn't go out of my way to avoid her though; occasionally we sat near each other during classes or meals, but to me, she no longer existed.
And that was the hard part. On the one hand, I was still so angry with her by her…betrayal. At least with the Dursleys, I always knew where I stood, and while Dumbledore's manipulations hurt me, he was never as important in my life as Hermione was.
But on the other hand, when I wasn't angry or bitter (which wasn't too often), I missed her desperately. Not even counting the fact that I had fallen in love with her, she and Ron had always been the one good constant in my life for the past six years. I could always count on them when it mattered, and the three of us spent the vast majority of our time together. Now it was just Ron and me, and when it wasn't just Ron and me, then it was me and everyone-else-who-wanted-to-be-near-the-Boy-Who-Lived. It was those times especially, when I was surrounded by dozens of people who only knew my scar, that I really missed her.
And on top of all that, there were the times when all I wanted to do was to comfort her. Though I did an admirable job ignoring her, and though she was pretty good at masking her feelings, there were times when I noticed her looking rather depressed. I know it sounds weird, the thought of providing comfort to someone who so completely deserved what she was feeling, but I couldn't help but feel the urge to console her; I guess you just can't turn that off after six years, though I tried my best. But I just couldn't help it when she just looked so miserable.
*************
"Man, she looks miserable."
Ron and I were playing a game of Wizard's Chess in the Common Room a few hours before dinner, about two months after the truth came out. I glanced over my shoulder to where Hermione sat surrounded by her books, looking absolutely miserable. "She looks fine," I said, lying through my teeth.
A few moves later, Ron said in a voice full of forced-nonchalance, "So, I heard she hasn't talked to Terry Boot since that day."
I shrugged as I studied the chessboard, hating myself for feeling that glimmer of hope. What the hell did I care if she stopped seeing Boot? Right? She was part of my past; I had nothing to do with her anymore. Severed all ties. Kaput. She was nothing to me…so why, then, did I have to continually remind myself of that?
When I didn't reply, Ron hunched over the chessboard and continued, "Actually, I heard from Ginny that she doesn't really talk to anyone now…pretty antisocial, is what I heard."
Again, I made no response. I didn't need Ron to tell me that - it was pretty obvious that, aside from her Head Girl duties and during class, Hermione was keeping to herself.
"The other day, Luna was saying that during the prefect meeting, Hermione-"
"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice tight. "Is there a point with all of this, or do you just like hearing yourself talk?"
Ron straightened. "Well, you know I like hearing myself talk," he said, trying to keep things light. "I'm just trying to make conversation. That's all. I was just going to say is that Hermione's been really quiet lately, which is really odd. You know how she is-"
"Do I?" I interrupted, "do I really know her?"
Ron looked taken aback. "Of course you know her. You know her better than anyone else here, myself included."
I shook my head. "The Hermione that I know would never steal my broom and bust it up-"
"Now hold on there," Ron said suddenly, and rather emphatically. "You know that Hermione didn't break your broom."
"No? Well, it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't taken the broom in the first place!"
Ron nodded somewhat reluctantly. "True, but she didn't mean for it to-"
"What's with you?" I hissed, careful to keep my voice low; I hate creating scenes. I noticed we had garnered the attention of a few Gryffindors nearby. I glared at them and then waved my hand in the air, casting a privacy spell that would both keep our conversation private and create a haze that would obscure us from view. I turned back to Ron. "If this were your broom, you'd be livid! And you're one to talk - you've gotten mad at her for much smaller things before!"
"Yeah, but that's me!"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means that's how `Hermione and Ron' operate. One of us does something to make the other angry, we yell, we get over it, and then it's rinse-and-repeat. That's not how `Hermione and Harry' work."
"Oh really?" I challenged. "And exactly how does `Hermione and Harry' work?"
"First, you two hardly ever fight, and then when you do, you actually talk things out."
I glared at him for a moment before turning back to the chessboard. "That's all in the past," I muttered.
"So that's it, then? Seven years of friendship down the drain just because she borrowed your broom?"
"`Just?'" I repeated. "You don't think that it was a big deal? You think I should just forgive her and pretend that it never happened?"
"I didn't say that," Ron said. "What I'm saying is that…listen, all I know is that you're miserable, she's miserable, you both are making me miserable, and everybody would be so much happier if you two were back on speaking terms again." I opened my mouth to respond, but he quickly added, "No one's saying that you should forgive her right away, but honestly Harry, have a little perspective. She took your broom and thought she could return it right away, and then she panicked when Boot crashed it. It's not like she pretended to be your pet rat for a decade and then turn out to be the man responsible for the deaths of your best friend's parents."
The only response I could make was to nod; you can't argue with something like that.
"Besides," Ron continued, "You would never have noticed it was gone if Boot hadn't busted it up; don't make me remind you of all the things that we've done and haven't told Hermione about. Now, compare that to all the times that she stood by you, pulled your arse out of the fire, and kept you from doing something stupid and likely fatal for the past six years…are you telling me that all of that doesn't deserve a second chance?"
I buried my head in my hands, trying to process it all.
"Plus, there are…other factors…" Ron said uncomfortably.
I looked up at him; I could tell he didn't want to talk about what he wanted to talk about, and I had a feeling that I wouldn't like these `other' factors, whatever they were. But I had to ask. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, would you be so worked up over this if Hermione had taken your broom and given it to Ginny to fly?"
"Ginny wouldn't have crashed it."
"That's not the point, and you know it. I'm just saying maybe the fact that she gave it to guy is making this bigger than it should be."
I grumbled something incoherent and tried to return my focus to the game. Ron kindly shut his trap, apparently having said everything he wanted to say. I was still so angry at Hermione for what she did, but Ron did have a point, didn't he? For six years, Hermione was my best - but no, of course he didn't have a point, this was Ron we're talking about. The day that Ron starts making sense about feelings and emotions is the day that…that…Hermione steals my broom?
I stood up. "I need to think."
Ron nodded. "Where are you going?"
"Outside. To work on the broom."
"Oh…okay. See you at dinner?" I nodded and reached for my bag. But with the discussion fresh in my mind, I couldn't help but glance over at Hermione as I headed for the portrait hole. She looked at me for a second, a thoughtful look on her face, before I looked away.
*************
After leaving the Common Room, I headed outside where I settled myself underneath a tall oak by the lake. Once seated comfortably, I began emptying my bag around me, ready to begin work rebuilding the broom.
Oh, I knew that it could never be returned to its original condition; that, in fact, it probably wouldn't fly, and if it somehow managed to leave the ground, it would fly worse than the original Cleansweep. But that wasn't the point. I had already purchased a new broom for Quidditch, but I just couldn't leave this one for kindling - there was too much sentimental value attached to it.
So every day, I would spend a couple of hours attempting to rebuild the Firebolt. When it was nice outside, I would sit underneath this tree and work on the broom; otherwise, I would find a quiet spot somewhere in the castle. An unforeseen benefit of this was that I actually got some quiet time; people seemed to know not to bother me when I was working on the broom. It was also a task that required focus and concentration, and this prevented me from dwelling on my relationship - or lack thereof - with Hermione.
This not to say that it was a fun process. I knew next to nothing about how a broom works, so I often found myself referencing several different books as I put together the Firebolt, piece-by-piece. I pulled out the pieces of the broom and tackled the same problem that I had faced for a couple days now. I was trying to join two pieces together, but I couldn't seem to find the right spell that would both fuse the wood together and preserve the portion of the braking charm that was contained within that section of the broom. It was frankly maddening. I made a noise of disgust as another spell failed when a voice interrupted me.
"Need some help?"
I looked up, surprised that someone had actually approached me. I was doubly surprised to find it was Hermione, looking about as nervous and self-conscious as I'd ever seen her. I was about to tell her off, or simply ignore her, when some of that old Harry Potter came through, and I couldn't help but think she looked so damn adorable. I shook my head, both in the negative and to ward off those types of thoughts. "No thanks."
I returned to the broom, but she hadn't left. I ignored her, but after a few moments of silence she spoke up again. "I think if you make a twirly motion counterclockwise with your wand, it should work." I looked at her again, and she shrugged nervously. "I read it in a book," she said.
I suppressed the urge to chuckle - such a Hermione thing to say - and tried the twirly motion she suggested. Even though I was upset with her, the problem with the broom was so frustrating that I would probably take advice from Malfoy at this point.
"No, like this," she said. I looked up as she began to take a step towards me, paused awkwardly, and then stood still. She then demonstrated the motion.
I mimicked her actions, and to my delight, the pieces stuck together. I couldn't stop the grin from appearing on my face, but it faded when I looked back at her. "Thanks," I said, and then returned to ignoring her.
After a second, she spoke again. "If you like, I mean, if you wouldn't mind, I think…well, I've been reading a lot about broom repair, and I could help, if you think it would be okay…"
I looked back at Hermione as she stammered on, unconsciously playing with the hem of her robe. I was going to tell her no thanks, or something perhaps a bit more snarky, but her uncharacteristic fidgeting made me pause, my earlier conversation with Ron somehow springing to mind.
And then I knew that this was one of those moments that I would always look back on in life, one of those `what if' moments. If I told her to go to hell, would I regret it later? If I accepted her help, would I regret it sooner? I somehow knew that if I said no, she'd leave and we'd never be friends again. I probably wouldn't see her much after graduation, and the times when our paths would cross would be awkward and uncomfortable. And that made me a little sad. Like Ron said, she'd done so much for me, sacrificed so much for me over the past six years. Could I really let that go so easily? True, she stole my broom and - damnit, she stole my broom and gave it to Boot! I couldn't just let that go either!
But saying no to her now was like slamming a door on our friendship. And I couldn't be sure that, years later, I wouldn't find myself wishing that I could reopen that door, but unable to because of all the years of baggage piled against it. I didn't want to be friends with Hermione right now, but who knows how I might feel years from now?
So I looked at Hermione and nodded. She smiled, looking visibly relieved as she sat beside me. As we worked on the broom together, we didn't talk except to show each other different techniques and to offer advice. And after we left for dinner, we didn't talk or pretend that things were okay. In fact, very little changed at all, but it was a start.
A/N: Yay! So now everyone's happy and cheery and they'll snog next chapter, right? Ha! Not so fast there. A few more bumps in the road yet to go.
Okay, so here's where I respond to reviews in a general manner, so you can skip if you wish.
Still here? All right then.
Issue #1: Another oversight on my part is how others in Hogwarts might react to Hermione and Terry's actions. Essentially, I'm going to ignore that. Probably stemming from the fact that I don't think too much about my plots beyond the H/Hr romance, I simply never considered what might happen if/when everyone else found out. So, feel free to believe whatever you want - that no one else really knows the whole story, or that everyone knows. Sorry, I know it's an unsatisfying answer, but like I said before, the story moves on regardless.
Issue #2: Overall, people seemed to accept Hermione's reason for doing what she did. That's not to say that it was a justifiable reason (I'm not condoning it), but it should be, at least, a believable reason and somewhat realistic.
For those of you who don't buy it, I think it's rooted in the fact that it's too OOC (though Hermione's lack of respect for Harry's feelings is not as OOC as you might think, which I'll get to later). I'm not saying that Hermione would actually do any of this, but I believe it's within the realm of possibility that someone who's been so focused on such heady matters as life and death for six years might cut loose for a few months. Everyone who's been to college must know one or two people who were straight-laced and responsible in high school, but then, when given the taste of freedom that college brings, is always the first in line at the keg.
And, let's face it, Hermione's not perfect; in fact, she can be downright insensitive sometimes. Two examples immediately come to mind:
One, the way in which she nagged Harry about Occulmency. She should know that a) dealing with Snape sucks and b) exposing your mind to Snape sucks even more. And yet, rather than encourage Harry, she nags him.
But that's small potatoes compared to her plan for Harry to be interviewed by Rita. Now, I know it turned out well (and was probably a very shippy scene…I can picture it now, Harry struggling to recount the event, supported by Hermione…), but really, it could easily have gone in the other direction. This was the most traumatic experience in Harry's life (up to that point) that he's only shared with three people, and I can't believe that Hermione expected Harry would just simply show up, see Rita, a witch he does not trust, and just spill the beans to the world, without any type of advance warning or preparation. Harry could easily have gotten angry and just left. But Hermione does that sometimes - she loses sight of Harry's feelings when she thinks she knows what's best. And don't think that she's quite learned her lesson yet, at least not in this story…
Okay, this will be the last I babble on about the subject, I promise!
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